


Flood

by fatal_drum



Series: Charity Ficlets 2020 [4]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Crying During Sex, Depression, Discussion of Death, Emotional release, First Time, M/M, Martin has a lot of feelings, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Scottish cabin honeymoon, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Martin Blackwood, background Petermartin, soft, soft Dom Jonathan Sims, strap-on sex, unhealthy family relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatal_drum/pseuds/fatal_drum
Summary: Martin Blackwood hasn’t cried since his mother died.That's about to change.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Charity Ficlets 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804192
Comments: 29
Kudos: 247





	Flood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carboncopies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carboncopies/gifts).



> Many thanks to carboncopies, who has been wonderfully patient in waiting on this fic! Carboncopies supported the Southern Poverty Law Center. Check out their podfics!
> 
> Many thanks to cuttooth for betaing! 
> 
> This fic uses the following words for Martin’s anatomy: cock, hood, glans, folds

Martin Blackwood hasn’t cried since his mother died. 

He got the call at half three in the morning. The hospital never called that late unless something was very wrong. Even the time she got pneumonia, they didn’t call until morning. Part of him already knew what he was going to hear before he picked up. 

_...so sorry, Mr. Blackwood...no way of knowing...can’t imagine how you’re feeling… _

In films, death comes with reconciliation. Tearful apologies. Forgiveness. Martin got none of those. His mother died as she lived: resenting every second he intruded on her. He only wished he could be surprised. 

After that, he gave up resisting the call of the Lonely, let Peter take him under his wing and show him how to stop caring. Even if half the time he was only humoring Peter, it did feel...better, in its own way. Not  _ good,  _ but livable. Like a shot of novocaine—the pain was still there, but disguised by a curious numbness. Peter’s kisses soothed one hurt while creating another. 

Martin never expected to get out of it alive. Meeting his end alone on the beach with the miles of surf, and the air that smelled faintly of Peter’s pipe was almost...pleasant. He could bask in the twin tides of regret and loneliness, letting himself fade away to nothing. Maybe Peter would watch him from afar. He thinks Peter would have liked that. 

But then Jon came for him. Refused to leave his side, refused to admit defeat, until Martin  _ saw _ him. The moment they returned to reality, he buried his face in Jon’s chest and sobbed for what seemed like hours. Jon threaded his fingers through Martin’s hair, petting him and murmuring soothing nonsense until the tears finally stopped. 

Now, weeks later, Martin still struggles to feel things. His emotions are like a radio at just the wrong frequency, when you can barely hear enough through the static to know the song. He alternates between periods of numbness and times when he feels like a raw nerve, exposed and twitching. Sometimes he’ll lie in bed for hours, staring vacantly at the ceiling and searching for a reason to get up before Jon comes home from the shops. Other times the sight of a cow grooming her calf will make him burst into tears. ( _ Why are you crying? _ Jon asked.  _ They’re good cows, Jon. Just...really good cows.  _ Thankfully, that was all the answer Jon needed.) __

The first time they make love, it’s a stumbling, awkward experience. It’s also the happiest Martin can recall being in his life. Jon’s kisses leave him breathless, even though their noses bump, and Martin somehow manages to kneel on Jon’s hair. Just knowing Jon wants him is enough to make him ecstatic. Even if Jon doesn’t experience desire in the same way, he still wants to  _ be  _ with Martin, to touch and kiss and hold him, and that’s more than enough. It’s more than he ever thought he’d have.

Of course, Martin mucks it up by crying halfway through. Jon—predictably—panics. 

“Martin!” Jon grabs him by the arms, looking up at him with concern. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Martin shakes his head, unable to speak through his tears. Jon wipes them away gently. 

“Please help me understand. I want to help you.”

This makes Martin cry even harder. He kisses Jon’s palm through the tears, so grateful he could burst. “I...it just...you make me  _ feel.  _ A lot.”

Jon’s eyes are wide and uncertain. “What am I making you feel?”

“I love you,” Martin says. Saying it is still new and dizzying. “More than anyone or anything. It’s so much. It feels bigger than me, like I can’t contain it, and the only way to let it out is...this.”

Jon strokes his cheek. “I love you, too. You haven’t... _ felt _ ...a lot since everything happened, have you?”

“It was safer not to,” Martin says softly. “If I thought about everything we lost, or what might happen to you, or the world...I couldn’t have held it together. I wouldn’t have made it.”

“You’re safe now, Martin,” Jon says, his eyes fixed on Martin’s. His eyes are as deep and dark as the bottoms of wells. Martin would gladly drown in them. “Do you want to keep going? Or take a break?”

“Please don’t stop,” Martin blurts out. 

Jon smiles. “Alright, then. I won’t.” 

He kisses Martin, soft and deep, as his fingers stroke the inside of Martin’s thighs. Martin’s panting by the end of it, legs spread wide in invitation. It’s an invitation Jon accepts, fingers sliding along Martin’s slick folds until he whimpers.

“Please,” he whispers.

“Anything you want,” Jon promises. 

Martin gasps as Jon slides two fingers deep inside, rubbing his cock with his thumb. He’s already so wet, and Jon’s making him wetter every second. Jon works a third finger in with no effort, stretching him perfectly. 

“Look at you being so good for me,” Jon praises, and the tears fall even faster, even as Jon kisses them away. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“I want it to be too much.”

Jon’s expression  _ smolders,  _ and he proceeds to give Martin just that, crooking his fingers wickedly until Martin’s thighs tremble. His thumb rubs circles around Martin’s cock, making him clutch the sheets desperately. 

_ “Please, _ Jon—” he begs. 

“Please what?” Jon asks innocently, though his smirk gives him away. 

“Please make me come,” Martin whispers. 

In lieu of answering, Jon leans down to lick a circle around Martin’s cock. Martin cries out, gripping Jon’s hair as the tension in his belly winds tighter and tighter. Once he’s close, he pushes Jon back. “Jon, I’m going to—”

“Do it,” Jon orders, and the order makes Martin clench around his fingers.

“It’s—messy,” he warns. 

“Even better,” Jon says, sucking hard on his cock, and Martin comes with a low cry, gushing all over Jon’s face and hand. Jon licks him through it until he’s squirming with overstimulation. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Jon asks. Martin shakes his head. “I can’t hear you.”

“N-no,” Martin says, gasping as Jon pulls back his hood and swipes his tongue directly across his glans. “Fuck!”

Jon hums contentedly, sucking him into his mouth again. Martin’s breathing hard, his whole body clenching as Jon draws him over the edge again. He grips Jon’s hair, making the most embarrassing sounds he’s made in his life as he spasms around Jon’s fingers. 

“Oh, my god,” is all Martin can say, panting. Jon smiles so smugly Martin can’t resist pulling him up for a long, deep kiss that tastes faintly of himself. “You want me to return the favor?”

“I’m good,” Jon says. “Though...I did pick something up a while back? If you’re interested.”

There’s an edge of self-consciousness that confuses Martin until Jon reaches into his bag and pulls out a black harness. It takes a moment for Martin to realize what it is, and he bursts out laughing, wiping the tears from his eyes. Jon looks aggrieved. 

“Sorry, I’m not laughing at you—just—when did you have the  _ time?” _

Jon shrugs self-consciously. “You were buying bus tickets, and...the opportunity presented itself.” 

Martin has no choice but to kiss Jon all over again, smiling against his lips. 

“I love you, you know,” he murmurs. 

“I love you too,” Jon says softly. 

It takes Jon a few minutes to get into the harness—the straps are fiddly, and Jon has no hips to speak of—but once it’s in place, Martin’s all but drooling. Jon has selected a dark purple cock with a pearly sheen, nice and thick, with a curve just where Martin wants it. Martin wraps his fingers around it, pleased at the firm heft. 

“I made sure it’s body safe. Medical grade silicone. No phthalates.”

Martin’s heart swells, and he fights off a fresh round of tears. It’s the most  _ Jon  _ way to express affection he can think of. He can’t help but think back to the time Jon gave a university level lecture about emulsifiers on his birthday. He wonders if he can expect a similar lecture on phthalates later. He’d gladly listen to Jon talk about anything.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” Martin asks, looking at Jon through his lashes. 

“Yes,” Jon says. “Please.”

Martin lies down between Jon’s legs, kissing his way up his thighs. He can smell Jon’s arousal as he nuzzles his cock, dragging his lips up the side of it before taking the head in his mouth. Jon’s hands stroke his hair gently as Martin gets used to the weight and heft of his cock. Martin lets out a soft moan. 

“Good boy,” Jon murmurs, and fresh tears slide down Martin’s face. Jon wipes them away with his thumb, then lifts his hand to his mouth to taste, eyes closed in pleasure. 

Martin slides forward, taking as much as he can, until Jon’s cock hits the back of his throat and he has to swallow carefully. Jon grips his hair tightly. 

“You look beautiful like this,” Jon says softly. 

Martin moans, pushing forward until his nose brushes against the soft curls at the base. Jon’s scent is strong here, making his mouth water. Martin grabs hold of Jon’s hips, silently urging him to use his mouth. 

“You want me to fuck your mouth, don’t you?” Jon says, realizing. The words make Martin wet all over again, and he nods carefully around Jon’s cock. “If it’s too much, squeeze my hip, alright?”

Then Jon seizes him by the hair, pulling him almost all the way off before sinking back into his throat. Martin moans around his mouthful of cock. Jon fucks his mouth slowly and methodically, making him choke on its heft until he can barely see through the blur of tears. It’s too much, and also indescribably perfect. 

“I want to fuck you properly,” Jon says. “May I?” He pulls out just enough for Martin to moan his assent. “On your back, please.”

Martin scrambles to obey, spreading his legs wide for Jon to kneel between. His cock is slick with saliva as it nudges Martin’s thighs. Fresh heat flares between his legs as Jon lines himself up and finally sinks inside. Martin lets out a low, broken sound, gripping Jon in his arms. 

“Are you alright?” Jon asks, reaching to cup Martin’s cheek.

“M-more than alright,” Martin manages. “Fuck, please don’t stop.”

Jon’s smile is like an arrow through his heart, cutting to the core of him as Jon thrusts in again. Martin can’t resist pulling him down for a messy kiss, tears smearing against both their cheeks. His legs wrap around Jon’s slim hips to pull him deeper. 

“You’re so good,” Jon murmurs against his lips, “So perfect.”

Martin sobs as Jon picks up speed, his thrusts becoming relentless. 

“I want you to touch yourself for me. Can you do that?”

Martin’s brain nearly shorts out as he obeys, fingers plunging between them so he can rub his cock in firm circles. “J-jon, I’m going to—”

“Do it,” Jon orders, and Martin bites down on his lip and comes, gushing all over his hand. Jon fucks him through it until he’s whimpering and squirming, unable to decide if he wants more or if he needs it. 

“Nicely done,” Jon murmurs.

“That’s what I should be saying,” Martin says, and they both laugh, until Jon circles his hips and Martin makes a choked sound. “J-jon—”

“Yes, love?”

Martin tries to answer, but then Jon grinds against his cock, and what comes out is a messy moan. 

“I think you’ve got another left in you,” Jon says, rubbing Martin’s cock firmly. Martin twitches. “Don’t you?”

Martin can’t do anything but nod. 

“May I?”

_ “Hnnnghh—” _

Jon takes that as the agreement it is, thrusting in slow and deep. Electricity sparks up Martin’s spine as Jon grinds against his cock, the delicious fullness making him moan. Before he can adjust, Jon pulls back for another deep thrust, knocking the breath out of him. Tears stream down his face as Jon tenderly takes him apart, leaving him raw and exposed.

“Jon,  _ Jon—”  _ he babbles. 

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” Jon promises, cupping his face and kissing the tears away, though he doesn’t slow down at all. Martin feels himself winding tighter and tighter, until he gasps and gushes all over Jon, spasming around his prick. 

Martin loses any semblance of self control, sobbing as Jon’s hips still against his. 

“Thank you, Martin,” Jon whispers, stroking his hair from his face. “You were so good for me. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Martin manages. “I’m sorry about the...this. I’m just...really happy.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s beautiful.” Jon says softly. 

Once Martin can stand to be parted from Jon for even a moment, Jon pops into the bathroom to remove the harness, returning with a damp cloth for Martin. By then, Martin’s tears have dried. Jon slides under the covers, curling against Martin. Their bodies fit together perfectly. 

Martin sleeps a dreamless sleep, and awakes with Jon still holding him. 


End file.
